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Monday, September 19, 2016

No. I want to pause time then replay it when needed so I can relive it and so could everyone else in the memory...but then would it just be a photograph?

Better yet, what if I could stretch time? Or hold an intermission during time? At least a breathing time?

No, I want to amend time. Why pause it? Why not capture it along with a variety of other forming memories and make wine out of it and cork it? Then I could sip it when I need it, when I'm lonely, when I'm missing the ones I love.

No, maybe what I really want to do is mend time. I don't mean fix. I want to sew moments together like a quilt and crawl underneath, grow warm there. If only this were possible.

No...what I want to do is bookmark time. Return to that page. Show it those who need to see it so they can see where I'm coming from, why I have the point of view I do. And to share it too.

If only I could punctuate time. Add a comma to slow it down, a dash to speed it onward, a period to stop, or a semi-colon to wait for a while for the inevitable.

Monday, September 12, 2016

While walking one day, I discovered this home-made "Stonehenge." It reminded me of that maxim
1. Eat.
2. Design.
3. Sleep.

Happening upon this little circle of stones, I felt a kindred spirit. What's the point of life if we don't create something out of it? Whether it's a tool or technology, or a territory, we humans make things. And we hope others will admire these creations. My psychology training tells me it's like self-determination theory: we need to feel in charge of something in the world (autonomy), we strive to succeed at that something (competence), so we can share that something with others (relatedness).

Thursday, September 1, 2016

“You need to have an iron rear to sit upon a cactus, or otherwise,
at least a year of very painful practice.” Jack Prelutsky

Agreed, wise poet, agreed. Inevitably, during our lives, we
will face many “cactuses” (or “cacti” if you prefer). Some big some small. It
might be developing a new skill. Maybe it’s our first year with a new job. Or a
complicated relationship. Maybe it’s a matter of health or wealth or something
we need to change. Whatever the prickly situation, as a comedian once observed,
“cactuses are always sort of flipping us off.” But we must remember this: no
one gets stronger and wiser without outsmarting cactuses.

Prelutsky’s poem reveals important perspectives on how to
face life’s difficulties. Which is better: the “iron rear” or “the year?” And
that, my friend, is the crux. When faced with obstacles and challenges, we must
all answer this ourselves. Based on my experience, some tips (pun intended).

Determine
if it’s really a cactus. Maybe it’s not as thorny as first imagined?

Prioritize
your cactuses. Which one first and why?

There’s
no such thing as an iron rear. Sure, there may be an easy way, maybe cutting
corners is possible, but these are often temporary solutions. Remember “no
pain, no gain.”

Admit
defeat and withdraw. Like a fortune cookie once advised me: “Stop
procrastinating starting tomorrow.” This is an understandably popular option
because there’s no conflict but there are still consequences plus, by giving
up, there’s zero personal growth.

Suck
it up and go for the year. It may be the only way. But remember the key word in
Prelutsky’s clever poem: practice. Practice is not just repetition. Don’t practice
on autopilot, or like a broken record. Instead, make minor changes each time. Problem
solve. It’s all about trial-error-adjust-try again and repeat. Strengthen your
assets. Trim the problem down into manageable sections. Expect some pain and increase
your tolerance. Invest in Band-Aids if necessary but get comfortable with tearing
them off. Persevere. Prove the pricks wrong. Grow. And don’t face cactuses
alone. Get encouragement and feedback on your process and progress. Finally, no
matter the outcome, share your cactus stories; even the unsuccessful attempts
may harbor the words someone else needs to hear. And most importantly, help
others navigate through their battles.